Visitation

[logan]

(ooc: Assuming this is the next morning )

Logan pulled the motorcycle into the driveway, and cut the rumbling engine (which could be heard for quite a way.) Stepping off, he took a look at the place Rogue had set up for “cured” mutants – tactfully known as “restored.” It was a fairly attractive piece of property, and he could imagine wasn’t a cheap rent. His mind wandered briefly on the subject of how she paid the bills around here, and then shrugged the idea off as someone else’s business.

His boots crunched in the gravel that lined the driveway as he walked towards the door. It had been nearly four months since he’d seen the girl, and it was good to do so again. He’d bonded with her early in his experiences with the X-Men, and definitely considered her a real friend, even if he never completely agreed with her decision making processes.

Taking a moment to savor the flavor of his cigar, he rapped on the door a few times, and took a step back.

It would be good to see a familiar face after so much rambling around. It would be good to see her face, especially. She always had a calming affect on him, a way of forcing perspective into his life when things seemed far to heavy, burdening his conscious or the lurking beast beneath his flesh. It would be good indeed.

[Admin]

Although the rumbling of any motor was heartening to the backwoods kids of Rogue's Place, as they didn't get much company out in the boonies as they were, the rumbling of a motorcycle nearly made Marie's heart jump up in her throat with the shock of it. Granted, there were millions of people who rode motorcycles everyday, but for any of them to come back to the house - to know where to find the house even - was a long shot unless they were there for a purpose, to find an old friend.

Without a word to the other kids sitting at the breakfast table, Marie pushed back the chair, jumped up, and ran to the front door, which was just now being knocked on. Only seconds after he stepped back, the door opened to Marie's widely smiling face and without a word she stepped forward and hugged him tight around the neck.

It had been quite a few months since Marie had seen Logan, or anyone at the Institute for that matter, and while she kept up regular correspondance with Storm, she hadn't realized how much she'd missed the familiar faces that she had called family for the last three years of her life.

"What are you doing here?" She asked as she let go of him and stood back. "It's good to see you!"

[logan]

Logan had carefully pushed his hand holding the cigar to one side as Marie – no longer Rogue, really – embraced him. It sent a strange sensation up his spine. He could so crisply recall the long time she could not enjoy such a simple contact without worry that some part of her flesh would touch his, and he could recall the sickly cold feeling her power put inside him the night she’d taken his regeneration and used it herself. It felt as if his vitality was being stolen, though he knew it was her who suffered far greater than anyone she ever touched. It was solely the reason he could never blame her for accepting the cure.

"What are you doing here? It's good to see you!”

He couldn’t help but smile his lopsided smile, and even show a little teeth. Same old Rogue, whether she went by her birth name or not.

“Passin’ through, kid, thought I’d check in on ya. I’ve been out of the school for a few months… straightening things out.” As if on cue, he immediately shifted the subject after coming so quickly to the revelation. He looked around appraisingly. “Some place you got here, I’m impressed. You gettin’ by alright?”

[Admin]

Marie smiled and nodded him inside, "we're surviving, comon in." They didn't have air conditioning in the house, but at least it wasn't as hot and as muggy as it was outside.

She wanted to ask, badly, where he'd been and what he'd been straightening out, but Bobby had told her what happened on Alcatraz, and Marie didn't want to bring it up. Instead she gave him an impromptu tour of the house, explaining that it had been her parents and was waiting for her when she returned. "It wasn't easy to get back, seeing as how I'd run away, but Hank helped me with some of the legal stuff, and then when everyone started showing up we officially turned it into a home for restored humans. We get a tax break for it." She grinned so that he wouldn't worry. She'd already poured her heart out to Lar's the day before about it, and she didn't want Logan to think she couldn't take care of herself.

"You want something to eat?" she asked, concious that most people arrived hungry due to the lack of much of anything around Caldecott County.

[logan]

Logan could see the question in her eyes, and her concern, but didn’t know how well he’d handle bringing it up. It wasn’t his style to wax on and on about his emotions, and already thinking back on how he responded to the emotional details of the past year made him feel like he had been blubbering. So naturally, he took the tour with a look of interest on his face.

He chuckled at the mention of Hank. “Of all the furballs I’ve met in my day, that big blue bastard is definitely the handiest to keep around.”

Her smile, even if there was a hint or trouble behind it, still warmed him. As if on cue with her mention of food, his stomach let out a low rumble. The last thing he’d eaten was a deer he killed yesterday, and though he’d cooked and eaten mostly the whole thing, his regeneration pushed his metabolism far beyond what most people had, and he was already starving.

“I could definitely go for some fine southern cooking… Got any beer?”

[Admin]

"Logan, I'm the oldest person here, and I haven't pushed 21 yet." Marie laughed softly as he asked for beer. "We have milk, which is as precious a commodity as it gets around here, and some juice, and coke. It's cold," she said, thinking of the cokes that they had always kept in the cupboard of the school instead of the fridge. Of course, at the mansion you could always find Bobby and have him cool it over for you... a smile flickered at the corner of her mouth, unsure whether to turn down at the thought of him, before she turned away and busied herself in the fridge, finding the elusive cokes.

"Here you go," she was composed again as she brought two of them out, handing one to him and setting one on the counter next to the fridge for herself later. In an ironic twist of circumstances Marie had never been much of a fan of ice cold cokes - she always liked them cool, but not fridge cold. "As for actual food, we've got some leftover spaghetti," it was amazing James had managed to make enough as to actually have leftovers, "mac and cheese, ramen noodles, and all the other necessities that make up your basic kids array of 'nutrition'."

"Fine southern cooking though, you say? I could probably whip up a batch of grits. Doesn't get anymore southern than grits." And as often as she had had them in her life, Marie could never get sick of grits. Breakfast, lunch and dinner, it was the meal of champions... or poor southern folk.

(Guess who had grits tonight for dinner? )

[logan]

Ugh. First the school, now Rogue’s restored get-away. Logan really needed to start carrying his own beer around. Of course, ice-cold Coke was a handy substitute. Definitely better than milk and juice.

His smile widened with the idea of grits. How long had it been since he had grits? It was back before… Wolverine raised a hand to his head instinctively, eyes squeezing shut for a minute. A myriad of memories flashed by in a greenish blur, so tangible they left streaks in his eyes which didn’t clear until he shook his head a bit and smacking his temple.

He looked up quickly, and waved off any notion that he may not be okay. That was the first time he’d had a flashback in quite a while. Something about grits, oddly enough, triggered something in his lost memories.

“You know, I think grits win. It’s been a very long time.”

[Admin]

Marie had been watching him out of the corner of her eye as she went through the cupboard, and noticed his reaction to the grits. She understood completely the feeling of being taken over by the unknown - of seeing a memory that couldn't be remembered. She'd seen his, when she'd used him to heal the wound in her chest, and they'd given her nightmares for months. And although she'd healed her flesh of the power to suck memories from those she touched, she hadn't healed her mind of the memories she'd already taken. Marie was still caught unawares by nightmares that were not her own and by sudden urges to do and say things she normally would not. Being in Mississippi brought out Cody more often than anyone else though, and suddenly having the personality of a hormone-raging adolescent boy was not at the top of her list of things to do most days.

"Grits it is," she said softly with a smile. Her fashion of grits took a while to make, but they were worth it, and while they waited they had time to catch up. "So have you taken over art class yet, Professor Logan?" she smirked.

[logan]

He chuckled. “Woodshop. Actually, I’ve been gone longer than you, and haven’t turned around… heading back now, though.”

He drew an X-phone from his jeans pocket, and held it up, drawing a striking memory of first using the thing back at Bobby Drake’s house. “Surprised ‘Ro hasn’t called me in for anything yet. I suppose the world’s been quite since Alcatraz. Haven’t been near anything close to the news In a while, but I figure she’d give me a ring if she needed me.”

He leaned back in his chair, hoping his extra weight (having a skeleton cased in adamantium will add a few pounds) wouldn’t break the flamin’ thing.

“I know you and I haven’t exactly spoken about Alcatraz, or about… Jean. But since you’ve got a way of making my gums flap, I figure I might as well keep the trend rolling. It’s strange, remembering what I remember… I really loved her you know.”

He had no idea why he said this. Maybe it was the last step in finally being able to move on – talking to someone about it. He’d spent so long in isolation, and it did help. But there was no medicine on earth quite as good as company.

Probably for the first time since Rogue had seen him and Scott break down in the Blackbird when Jean died the first time, she could easily see cracks in the Wolverine’s armor.

[Admin]

"From what we know nothing has happened since, so your not so far behind," Marie nodded at the phone he was holding. "Not that I get to watch the news all that often, living in a house full of teh MTV generation and only one tv. Still, there hasn't been anything on MTV news about it," she winked at him to put him at ease.

It seemed it hadn't worked, however, as Logan sat back in the chair and began commiserating about Alcatraz... and Jean. Marie swallowed, almost audibly. She hadn't seen Jean come in on the Blackbird, nor had she seen her leave once she woke up. The stories of Jean had seemed more like a dream to her - like it couldn't have possibly been the same in-control woman that she'd always looked up to. Without a solid image to focus on in her mind, the stories of the new Jean, and the memories of the old could not be reconcilled, and so Jean's second death had not made the impression on her that it possibly should have.

Reaching over, Marie hesitated only a moment as she realized she was gloveless, and then in turn realized she didn't need the gloves, before she grabbed his hand in her own and squeezed it. "I know you did, Logan. I'm sorry for what happened." She tried to give him a smile, but her lips quavered and she ended up biting them together to keep herself composed. "It's hard to loose someone you care for, and think it could have been different. That you could have done something different."

Twin thoughts of Cody and Bobby crowded her mind, although she knew she could have done nothing different in either case. She'd had thought before to go see Cody in the hospital, where he was still in a coma, but hadn't been able to bring herself to actually go and confront what she'd done, even if it had been an accident.

"I better check on the grits," she said quietly, with one more squeeze to his hand before letting go. It was a relief to be able to show such a simple act of comfort, without worrying that you might hurt the person more.

[logan]

Logan’s thoughts lingered for a moment, and then suddenly, and to his amazement, he felt a weight lift off his shoulders. That was it, indeed. He only needed someone else to understand. To feel the warmth of their sympathetic touch – something that he thought he’d never be able to do with Rogue, but was proven wrong.

He couldn’t think of what the source of the sadness behind Rogue’s eyes was, but he knew for sure she sympathized. Her biggest curse had been her power, and now it was gone. He recalled briefly her mentioning her first boyfriend, but wasn’t sure maybe that was the cause, or perhaps her having to leave the X-Men.

Logan was all about understanding the need to get away, though. In a sense, what Stryker had told him was true.

You’re a survivor, Wolverine, always have been… there are no exits that way Wolverine!

He brushed the thoughts away easily. Regardless, he knew better than to invite Rogue back to the Mansion. She’d made a choice to get away, because it was too hard to stay, and there was nothing left for her there. Here, however, she was making a real choice. Making a difference.

“You know, ‘Ro still hates the cure… but I’m going to check out and see if we can’t set up some sort of joint program with the mansion and you. I’m sure we’ve got some muties on file who’ve taken the cure. Maybe we can work with each other.” He paused, smelling the grits in the air and smiling. “I think you’re doing some real good here, Marie.”

[Admin]

Marie was adding cheese to what was now a thick, gooey mass of grits when Logan finally spoke again. She turned around with a smile, "Thank you Logan, its good to hear your doing a good job every now and then." She turned back, tasted the grits to make sure they were thick enough (she liked her grits more like polenta), and then got down two bowls from a cupboard as she spoke.

"That would be a good idea, getting all the cured mutants down here. I know what it is like to stay around the mansion with a bunch of mutants who think you're a coward. If they don't have anywhere else to turn to, we can at least promise them three meals a day and a roof over their head...and understanding." She scooped a good majority of the grits into one bowl, only getting a small bit for herself. She'd just eaten breakfast afterall.

"If we come across any mutants needing help, we'll certainly send them your way. I don't know how well I'd do trying to teach someone to use their powers without damaging anything," she smiled. "Here you go; grits a la Marie." She handed the bowl to him with a flourish.

[logan]

((ooc: Moved to thread: Rogue's Place ))